When she had gone, Claire gathered her papers together in a neat little heap, ranged them in a corner of the bureau, and seated herself on a stiff-backed chair at the end of the table. She looked as if she were mounted on a seat of justice, and the position suited her frame of mind. She felt angry and ill-used. Cecil had no right to borrow money from a fellow-worker! The money in the bank was dwindling rapidly; the ten guineas for Sophie would make another big hole. She did not grudge that--she was eager and ready to give it for so good a cause; but _what_ was Cecil doing with these repeated loans? To judge from appearances, she was rather poorer than richer during the last few months, while bills for her new clothes came in again and again, and received no settlement. An obstinate look settled on Claire's face. She determined to have this thing out. In ten minutes' time Cecil was back again, still white, still defiant, meeting Claire's glance with a shrug, seating herself at the opposite end of the table with an air of callous indifference to what should come next. "Well?" "Well?" "You look as if you had something to say!" "I have. Cecil, what are you doing with all this money?" "That's my business, I suppose!" "I don't see it, when the money is mine! I think I have the right to ask?" "I've told you I'll pay you back!" "That's not the question. I want to know what you are doing _now_! You are not paying your bills." "I'll sell out some shares to-morrow, and--" "You shall do no such thing. I can wait, and I will wait, but I can't go on lending; and if I did, it could do you no good. Where does the money go? It does _you_ no good!" "I am the best judge of that." "Cecil, _are you lending money to that man_?" The words leapt out, as on occasion such words will leap, without thought or premeditation on the speaker's part. She did not intend to speak them; if she had given herself one moment for reflection she dared not have spoken them; when their sound struck across the quiet room she was almost as much startled as Cecil herself; yet heart and brain approved their utterance; heart and brain pronounced that she had discovered the truth. Cecil's face was a deep glowing red. "Really, Claire, you go too far! Why in the world should you think--" "I saw you with him now in the street. I could see that you were quarrelling; you took no pains to hide it. You left him to come in to me, and went back again. It seems pretty obvious." "Well! and if I did?" Cecil had plainly decided that denial was useless. "I am responsible for the loan. What does it matter to you who uses it?" But at that Claire's anger vanished, and she shrank back with a cry of pain and shame. "And he _took_ it from you? Money! Took it from a girl he professes to love--who is working for herself! Oh, Cecil, how _could_ he? How could you allow him? How can you go on caring for such a man?"